


Undiscovered

by tromana



Series: 50 Starting Points [2]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Blindness, Episode: s01e16 Bloodshot, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tromana/pseuds/tromana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His senses may have been heightened, but it doesn't mean that he can suddenly acquire new skills. Missing scene from 1x16 Bloodshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undiscovered

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Paint It Red January 2013 Challenge. Prompt: Letters

"Jane, what are you doing?"

"Oh Lisbon, I thought I heard you coming," Jane spoke lightly and he smiled. "And please stop looking so sorry for me. It's not so bad once you get used to it."

Lisbon frowned; she really couldn't get used to this new, blind, Patrick Jane. There was something so disconcerting about him missing one of his five senses. It didn't help in the slightest that it seemed like he was literally psychic now instead of just faking it, like he usually claimed. But then, she did like to try and keep an open mind; just because Jane wasn't a psychic, it didn't mean that nobody else could possibly be. It was hard not to let the jaded cynicism take over sometimes, especially when she considered just how long she had been in this job now. The things she saw on a day to day basis were enough to wear anybody down.

But then, when it came to Jane's current issue, he had already claimed that his other senses - smell, specifically - had become heightened since his sight deprivation. She didn't much like the idea of him _smelling_ her presence, nor of him being able to tell what type of anger somebody was exuding based on the scent. It just seemed a little nonsensical to her. Briefly, she wondered if his senses really were heightened or if he was just saying that in order to make himself sound a little less weird to her. If the latter was the truth, then it was a lost cause. She had already decided he was the oddest man she had ever met within a month of meeting him for the very first time.

However, that was all beside the point. It didn't explain exactly what he was doing at that moment in time.

For the first time in a very long while, he was sitting at the desk they had supplied for him. That, in itself, was an unusual sight. Jane never used his desk; he always preferred to lounge on his couch as if this were his home. His slender white pole was leaning up against the desk, and the sunglasses still covered up his eye patches – or at least, partially. On top of the desk was a book which appeared to be entirely filled with blank pages. She took another look as she took another step closer; they weren't blank. Instead, there were hundreds and if not, thousands of tiny indentations marking it.

It was a Braille book.

"I'm reading; what did you think I was doing?" he asked.

For the first time since his accident, he sounded quite nonchalant, almost like he was coming to terms with his plight. A pang of guilt rushed through her. She should have persuaded him to get the hell away from that van sooner, well before it had blown up. Then, he wouldn't have been forcing himself to learn Braille. He would have been fine.

"Stop feeling guilty, Teresa. You've done nothing wrong."

"I don't feel guilty," she answered defensively, lying smoothly or so she thought.

"I've gone blind; my hearing remains superb," he answered back. "I can tell by the tone of your voice that you're lying."

Of course he could; she should have known that. But then, she knew she could be forgiven for that. He'd sent her nerves into overdrive since he had witnessed that explosion and been blinded by it. The man was in her care; she felt entirely responsible for him. And that included when he had accidents which she felt like she could have prevented.

"Funny, your hearing often seems to be at fault when I try and give you a direct order."

"A little bit of a low blow don't you think?" he questioned and she shrugged her shoulders. "But fair. You couldn't have gotten me away from that van any sooner than you did. Not when..."

He trailed off but he didn't need to finish off the sentence for her to be able to fill in the blanks. She knew exactly what he was thinking. A man had died because of him. James Medina had been killed as a warning sign, to say that he would be next. And yet, that very same device that had killed Medina had nearly cost him his own life too. And that was because he had been too bull-headed to listen to her straight away. Lisbon took a deep breath. He was fine and they were going to work out who did this, before it cost any more lives. They just had to, before it got too far underneath Jane's skin.

"What are you reading?" she asked before the silence got too uncomfortable.

"I'm not exactly sure," he admitted in an uncharacteristic sign of weakness. "I asked Cho to borrow any Braille books the library had; I like a surprise."

"And how can you not be sure?"

"This is the first Braille book I've read, my dear Lisbon. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not Superman. I can't do absolutely everything."

"I never said you were," she muttered under her breath.

"I'm the blind one. It's my job to be mean," he said, sticking his bottom lip out petulantly.

"So you asked Cho to get you a book of Braille despite not actually being able to read it?"

"Thought I'd be able to work out which letter and symbol is which. But it's more difficult than it... Uh, feels."

Lisbon couldn't help but laugh. She was relieved when Jane took it with relatively good humor, but she couldn't help but find it funny. It was also amusing for her to witness Jane finding something difficult. Usually, he made _everything_ look so easy, so it was always a relief to discover something which was missing from his wide repertoire.

"I'll learn," he continued when her laughing fit was over. "I'm going to have to if I want to keep on being able to read books."

"Jane, you don't need to," she said softly. Lisbon reached out to touch him tentatively but he pulled away before she even had the opportunity to do so. "The doctor said you would recover soon."

"There's still a chance..."

"You will be fine," she said firmly. "I've gotta get on now. Work to do, criminals to arrest. You know what it's like."

"Lisbon..." Jane started as she went to leave.

She turned on her heels to take a look at him. His hands were resting on the books pages as if he hoped the information would miraculously transport itself from his fingertips to his brain. Then, there were the sunglasses and his pole too; it just finished the picture of desolation, really. The sooner he regained his sight, the better. It would make everything so much easier on all of them.

"There is something I can still cope with despite the blindness..."

"What?" she questioned dubiously.

"Drinking tea."

"Didn't Rigsby just make you one?"

"Yeah, but he doesn't make them like you do."

Instinctively, she rolled her eyes. She knew he was just trying to guilt-trip her into making him another cup of tea. Worse, seeing him sitting there and looking so pitiful meant that it was working. How could she say no to him when he looked like that?

"Fine," she said with a sigh.

Yes, he had to get better soon. She couldn't handle him being like this for much longer. And she knew that the same applied to the others too...

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Lettered](https://archiveofourown.org/works/660650) by [MerriWyllow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerriWyllow/pseuds/MerriWyllow)




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